


Sugar, Butter, Flower

by MovesLikeBucky



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angel cake - Freeform, Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Established Relationship, Kitchen Sex, M/M, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 10:00:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24967861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MovesLikeBucky/pseuds/MovesLikeBucky
Summary: When a bastard angel is left to his own devices on his and a certain demon's anniversary, what exactly is that certain bastard angel to do when he wants that certain demon's attention?Attempt baking in nothing but an apron, that should do the trick nicely.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 43
Kudos: 148
Collections: Shinbi34's Recommendations





	Sugar, Butter, Flower

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cassieoh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassieoh/gifts).



> So the wonderful, talented, and amazing [cassieoh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassieoh/pseuds/cassieoh) created a lovely art piece of Aziraphale and Crowley naked in their kitchen. My brain immediately wanted to know how they got there, and this fell out xD
> 
> cassieoh you are amazing and I hope you love this! <3
> 
> EDIT: cassieoh let me embed the art so it exists in the fic itself now T_T you are entirely too sweet my dear thank you for letting me pair these simple words with your beautiful creation <3

The butter and sugar are nice and combined. He cracks the eggs into the mixture — one at a time — then adds the vanilla. Cakes are a new endeavor, a fun little hobby away from his books.

Of course, on one’s anniversary, a nice vanilla sponge is not the only cake one might want.

Crowley is out in the garden, tending to the flowerbeds. (“Finicky things, angel. No respect. Too smug for their own good.”) Aziraphale is in the kitchen, baking this lovely cake for them. His “Make Loaf, Not War” apron is tied loosely around his waist.

This is the only thing he’s wearing.

Cake is nice, is the thing, but this is their anniversary. And if Aziraphale knows one thing about Crowley it’s that his husband much prefers _angel cake_ to any kind of confection.

As if on cue, he hears the back door open. Hears the mismatched footsteps of a saunter through the living room. Hears the sharp intake of breath that means he’s been spotted. Aziraphale schools his features, trying desperately not to giggle as he feels two wiry yet strong arms wrap around him, snaking their way under the apron.

“Well isn’t this a sight to come in from the garden to,” Crowley practically purrs against his skin.

“I haven’t the slightest idea _what_ you are talking about, dear,” Aziraphale says, doing his best to stomp down a grin. He relishes the heat of Crowley’s chest against his back, warmed in the August sun. He’d opted for a ghastly pair of denim cutoffs this morning. Dreadfully short, all too revealing. Scandalous, even.

Aziraphale had watched Crowley’s hips sway as he’d gone out to the garden, an idea forming in his mind. But really, faced with that sight, what else was he supposed to do? 

He’s broken from his thoughts by Crowley nipping at his neck. “And since _when_ —“ Crowley’s hands roam over his stomach, circling around to grab his arse “—do you bake _naked,_ sweetheart?”

Aziraphale breathes in sharply, but holds his composure. “I’m not naked, I’m wearing a perfectly serviceable apron, thank you.”

There’s a faint flickering of a forked tongue at the nape of his neck, followed by a trail of searing kisses. “Serviceable, eh?” Slowly, _painfully_ slowly, Crowley pulls on the apron string where it lies on Aziraphale’s waist. “Is that what we’re calling it?” He hisses low into Aziraphale’s ear as he pulls it all the way loose. “Just how ‘serviceable’ are we talking, angel?”

Aziraphale opens his mouth to respond with some clever quip at Crowley’s expense, but he’s cut off as the demon’s hand wraps around his already hard length. “Hmm… yes, definitely serviceable.” Crowley pulls the tie around Aziraphale’s neck with his teeth, letting the apron fall to the floor.

“Ah, yes, I should — _oh_ — I should hope so,” Aziraphale says, bucking his hips into Crowley’s hand, chasing the pull and the friction of it.

Crowley presses bruising kisses to his neck, his spine, his shoulders as he works him to completion. Soothing the marks with his tongue and murmuring love and adoration against his skin. Aziraphale comes right there in their kitchen, Crowley’s name falling from his lips, hands gripping the kitchen counter.

“Alright there, angel?” Crowley asks and Aziraphale can feel the smirk against his skin.

“Wonderful, really,” Aziraphale says hazily, leaning back into his husband’s arms.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Crowley says, snaking his way out from behind Aziraphale and propping his elbow on the counter. He looks up at him, his golden eyes shining and a mischievous smile on his face. “Brought you a little something, since the Forget-Me-Nots were cooperating today.”

He brandishes a small white flower. A tiny thing, minuscule and simple. It might seem like nothing, but it is so much more. It’s a flower from their garden, from their _home_ , from a place they never dreamed they’d be able to be.

Aziraphale takes Crowley by the hand, pulling him down the hall and to the bedroom. 

The cake batter sits forgotten, but there will be other days for things like that. Today is for them, for their love, and for this life they’ve built together. One year after another.

**Author's Note:**

> Come hang out and scream about Good Omens with me! The [Good Omens Party House](https://discord.gg/vjNBBjV) is a fun and large server with a great community that loves the show and the book, and the [Soft Omens Snuggle House](https://discord.gg/QU5krqq) is an affiliate for all things Soft Good Omens - no angst need apply. Both servers are 18+, and both are lots of fun!


End file.
